


Love Begins Again

by outspokencharlatans



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eddie's an art teacher, First Dates, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Past Buck/Original Male Character, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29815053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outspokencharlatans/pseuds/outspokencharlatans
Summary: In the wake of a bad break-up, Buck decides he's about through with dating. Doesn't have the energy or the time for it anymore. He's through with people passing through his life like ghosts on a carousel, through with putting so much energy into people who end up absent.So, when Maddie sets him up with someone from her painting class, he's reluctant to go through with it. That is, until he meets him.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 266





	Love Begins Again

**Author's Note:**

> Playing fast and loose with canon? It's more likely than you think. Probably more than a little OOC, but we're rolling with it. Listened to Begin Again by Taylor Swift for the first time since 2012 while at work the other day. All mistakes are my own. Bon appetit.

Buck starts dating again at Maddie’s behest, though the ache of his last relationship still burns in his chest every now and then.

"It's been almost a year, Buck," she reminded him over coffee last week in a café down the block from her and Chimney’s place. "I think it'd be good for you to get back out there."

He's hesitant–reluctant, even–because dating is universally a nightmare and he honestly feels like he has better things to do and that maybe a life of solitude with his cat wasn't such a bad thing after all.

His life is fulfilling. Good friends and a good career doing what he loved, even if it did turn off almost every single person he's tried to date in the four years he's been with the Los Angeles Fire Department. The uniform, total turn on based on how many people swoon when he tells them he's a firefighter; but people like to be assured that their partner or spouse is coming home at the end of the day and he refuses to make promises he knows he can't keep.

And so, ever since his relationship with Carter imploded, he's been on his own. 

For too long, according to his sister. 

Maddie has a honey-sweet smile on her face as she promises that the person she's set him up with is 'perfect' for him and to 'just give him a shot.'

Because it's Maddie and he loves her, he agrees.

Reluctantly, but he agrees.

He had thought he’d been at his worst when Abby left, her absence leaving a gaping hole in his life that he filled with friends and what he considered personal development, shedding his feelings of inadequacy to the best of his ability. In the long run, her absence made him realize that he couldn’t keep living in the past, that pressing forward and acknowledging the pain was the path toward healing.

And then Ali left him. The accident that nearly ruined his leg and his career also revealed everything wrong with his relationship, though if he actually sat and thought about it, he’d admit that it was dead long before the fire truck fell on him. She saw him, vulnerable and in pain, half a step away from death and realized that, though she never could – or would – ask him to quit, she couldn’t sit there and watch himself put his life on the line everyday.

It was as simple as them not being the right fit, or at least that’s what Bobby assured him every time news went around that he was once again single. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less

Being with Carter was like being with someone who viewed people as projects to be worked on, improved over time like a craftsman with tools.

Except that everything Carter wanted to fix was everything about _him_ , and it had been exhausting right up until the moment he’d had enough.

In the end, the more Carter tried to fix him, the more broken he felt. Exhausted. Worn down.

Well, it was still exhausting. Because it was a funny thing, really, how the small, seemingly innocent commentaries on his hobbies, his career, his wardrobe, his life, were really the most insidious. It still wore him down sometimes, because those aren’t the kinds of things you forget no matter how often you try and remind yourself of the contrary, and even though it's been a year, he still cycles through everything Carter used to say to him. 

Every thinly-veiled insult masqueraded as "advice" and "just something to think about" plays on repeat in his mind as he rifles through a closet full of clothes with nothing to wear.

Grabbing two shirts, he turns and holds them aloft for the small black cat curled up on his bed.

“C’mon, Tux. What do you think?”

His cat, Tuxedo, mewls at him in scrutiny from his place on Buck’s comforter and flops over to expose the white fur of his chest and paws. Buck tosses the shirts into the growing pile of rejects at the foot of his bed.

Despite his best efforts, he's running late. Couldn’t find the shirt he was looking for, hasn’t liked any of the ones he’s dug out so far.

And maybe he feels a little silly worrying about what to wear on a first date he isn’t expecting much from, but he still wants to feel nice, _look_ nice, like himself.

He finally settles on a burnt orange sweater Maddie says brings out his eyes, fixes his hair the way he likes it and heads out the door.

By the time he makes it to the cafe, he's more than a little late and though he's texted his date–someone named Eddie that Maddie met at a painting class that she's been not-so-subtly hyping up to him ever since Buck agreed to see him–as such, he fully expects him to be gone by the time he gets there.

"Uh, table for Buckley?" He asks the hostess. He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets, doing his best to quell the nervous energy he knows is coursing through him.

The hostess smiles and grabs two menus, nodding over her shoulder for him to follow her through the crowded dining room.

When he gets to his table, his heart stops, because for all the praises Maddie’s sung about Eddie, she neglected to tell him that his date was hot.

The man, Eddie, he presumes, smiles and stands as Buck approaches. He's tall, just a couple inches shorter than Buck at the most; muscular, by the way his cream-colored henley stretches across his shoulders. He has warm brown eyes and an even warmer smile as he gives a little wave.

Holy shit, he's never even heard this man speak, but his heart is still thundering in his chest.

After what feels like an hour, but is surely only moments, Eddie puts his hand out for Buck to shake. 

"Um, Evan. Evan Buckley, but everyone calls me Buck," Buck greets, lips curling into a smile. "Sorry for being late."

"Buck," his date nods. “Eddie Diaz. It’s nice to meet you.”

They sit and order, make their way through the niceties and the pleasantries of how nice the weather's been and their commutes (which Buck blames for his tardiness and not his existential crisis over his asshole exes) before Eddie asks what Buck does for a living. 

"I'm a firefighter, LAFD," Buck explains. "Four years now with the 118."

He almost launches into an epic story about a call he responded to last week–because that's usually the next set of questions, the heroics–when Eddie asks.

"Maddie tells me you like to cook?"

Or maybe not.

"Yeah," Buck nods. "My captain at the station taught me when I first started. But, gotta be honest, most people are more interested in the firefighter thing."

Eddie shrugs. "Figured you might not want to talk shop on the first date."

"No, no, it's actually kinda refreshing," he admits. He loves his job. Could talk about it for hours, often does talk about it for hours, but he likes the normalcy of talking about other things that don’t include five-alarm fires and cats stuck in trees.

He's about to ask what Eddie does for a living when their coffee arrives. He reflexively goes for the creamer and sugar, pours what he considers an appropriate amount into his mug, and stirs it in with this spoon.

He notices Eddie's gaze lingering on him and looks up, expecting to find criticism or some quip about how he puts too much cream and sugar in his coffee, but instead finds...amusement?

"Oh, my sister takes her coffee the same way," Eddie explains as he takes a sip of his own. "Just made me think of her, is all."

"You have siblings?" Buck asks and Eddie nods.

They talk about that for a while. Eddie mentions his sisters, Sophia and Adriana. He talks about Maddie and a little bit about Daniel. And Daniel's always been hard to talk about, but Eddie listens. Actually listens and asks questions about their childhood, _his_ childhood, because he wants to know and not just because it's polite.

As more time passes, Buck is surprised at how easy conversation comes with Eddie, surprised at how his nerves are starting to ease and he can feel himself coming out of his shell.

He wonders if it's obvious to Eddie, whether Eddie is as shocked at how well this is going because Buck’s a little afraid to say it himself, as if he could possibly jinx his good fortune.

Because he can feel himself starting to fall into something that could be love if they kept going, if they pursued this chemistry between them that feels exhilarating and a little like coming home at the same time.

Eddie’s laughing at one of his jokes, one of the ones that no one else seems to get, and Buck likes the sound. 

And they just _talk_. About their lives, about growing up in Texas for Eddie, Pennsylvania for Buck, and how their roads lead them to Los Angeles; about the music they like and the movies they've seen. Eddie glances over his years in the Army, and by the look in his eye, Buck knows enough not to press it.

So instead he steers it back to the present. "How'd you meet Maddie?" He asks, though he's certain Eddie already knows he kinda knows.

"She and Chimney take an art class in my studio downtown,” he replies. “But I also teach.”

"You teach?"

Eddie nods. "Yeah. I work with local schools to establish accessible art programs for kids with disabilities, but I also teach classes for adults."

He says it like it’s no big deal, but he can see the smile on Eddie’s face that tells him he loves the work he does.

"That's really fucking cool," Buck says. "How'd you get into that?"

Eddie pauses like he doesn't know how to say what he's going to say next.

"I have a son, Christopher," he settles on as he takes a phone out of his pocket. Buck waits as he scrolls through the phone and turns it to face Buck. "He's eight."

It's a picture of Eddie and a brunette woman on a park bench, a young boy with glasses and a pair of crutches seated between them.

"That's awesome. I love kids."

Buck can see the tension leave Eddie’s shoulders, watches the relief flush across his face as he smiles.

"I love this one."

Buck nods toward the woman in the photo. "Christopher's mom?"

Eddie’s smile falters and Buck rushes to tell him that he doesn't have to say anything if he doesn't want to.

"It's okay," Eddie assures him. "That's Shannon, my ex-wife. She, uh, passed away a couple years ago. Car accident."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Buck says. "That must've been hard."

"It's been tough, but we're doing fine. It's just been us ever since,"

Eddie goes on for a bit, about Christopher, the cerebral palsy, how he's just started at a new school, with such love and warmth to his voice that Buck can't help but be drawn in.

"I'm sorry, I'm sure the last thing you wanted to talk about on our first date was my kid," Eddie apologizes, absent-mindedly twirling his spoon in his coffee mug as the waitress swings by to bring them refills.

When she leaves, Buck turns his gaze back to Eddie.

"Don't be ridiculous. He sounds like a great kid," he says. "You're a great dad."

"Thanks. It's been so hard to date people who don't get put off by the fact I have a son."

"Their loss," Buck shrugs.

"And honestly, when it comes to dating with a kid nowadays, it feels more like a job interview. "

Buck smirks and cocks an eyebrow. "How am I doing?"

"Looks like you're gonna get through to the next round of interviews," Eddie cracks a smile as he checks his watch, winces at the time. "But it looks like this round is over. I have to go pick Christopher up from school."

Buck checks, too, surprised to find it’s already three in the afternoon. He grabs the bill the next time the waitress swings by, jokingly holding it out of reach when Eddie tries to reach for it.

“Let me,” he insists. “It’s not every day I get to wine and dine a hot single dad.”

Eddie chuckles as he arches an eyebrow. “Okay, but next time is on me.”

And Buck really, really likes the sound of that. He pays and walks with Eddie back through the café, enjoying the way Eddie’s hand lingers at the small of his back.

"Can I walk you to your car?" Eddie asks once they make it outside.

"Absolutely," he replies, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with Eddie.

Eddie’s hand slips into his, fingers intertwining as they walk down the street. It's innocent, sweet. He's a little nervous his hand is sweaty, but can't find it in himself to really care.

He almost brings Carter up, his name a phantom on his lips as they walk towards the Jeep. Almost wants to talk about him, _something_ , _anything_ , about how this date is somehow already miles and leagues ahead of anything he’s had before, but then his eyes connect with Eddie’s, warm and brown and bright as he starts talking about the holidays with Christopher, Abuela, and Tía.

And he wants to talk about that instead. 

"When can I see you again?" Buck asks when they get to his Jeep, a little breathless. He desperately wants to see Eddie again, wants more of whatever this is, wherever it’s going.

"I’m free next Saturday if you are." Eddie offers.

“Sounds like a date.”

“Good.” Eddie leans in for a quick hug and lingers in close. Buck can smell the faint twang of sandalwood on his skin, wants to lean in closer but wills himself to stay put. Almost as soon as he’s in Buck’s space, he pulls away, pressing a kiss to Buck’s cheek as he goes.

“I’ll text you!” He calls out toward Eddie’s retreating frame, and smiles when Eddie turns around to wave, signaling that he’d heard.

He can’t erase the smile from his face as he unlocks the door and gets into the Jeep. He's going to have to thank Maddie later, he realizes as he turns the key in the ignition. Tell her she was right, that maybe love wasn't an absent void of despair, that love stories could begin again at any time.

Because he’d just seen it happen, in the middle of a café in Los Angeles, and he couldn’t wait to see where it took him next.


End file.
